Tales of Tw’Elves

Forums Yurara Fameliki’s Stories Tales of Tw’Elves

  • Creator
  • #105


    Viewing 20 replies - 41 through 60 (of 77 total)
    • Author
    • #1514
      F LoveF Love

        “Oh, and she got 222 points in wordplay for ‘youarethefuckwittp’ “ chimed in another, also unidentified voice.
        “Is that a word?”
        “Apparently so … yes I believe it is in the 2057 Erstwhile Lemoaning first edition dictionoory … phrases which have come into common usage … just because of how often they are used in everyday conversation.”


          Luigi’s arthritis was amassing to an all time extreme, and he was unsure if he could take anymore of the pain, when just then, and with amazing timing, a lady walked up to him asking if he wanted any arthritis ointment.

          “Well yes… I could use some at this very instant.” Luigi said, as he pondered what sort of miracle occurred that would land him just what he needed, and in the very instant he needed it.

          “Your welcome.” said Marsha. She smiled and began walking towards the nearest health foods store.

          – – –

          The sun was shining and the leaves were green, and Marsha was worried about her health. She had just been reading about all the horrid chemicals that big pharma puts into their ointments, and thought it would be better off if she simply gave away the ointment contained in her purse.

          Just then she noticed an ugly looking man clutching his right hand. He was all bent over and wailing, and screaming absurdities.

          “Aha!” she thought.


            “King Apil-Sin, king Apil-Sin!” Smuftar shouted, as he smashed through the royal palace doors.

            “I bring grave tidings. We have word that a great bright flash-of-a-light came swiftly down from the heavens and into our kingdoms gardens. Our armored men were so scared that they lost their bowls in an instant, and ran into the hills screaming.” exclaimed Smuftar.

            “I see. That must have been Zu-the winged lion.” sighed king Apil-Sin.

            King Apil-Sin pondered for a moment, and then some more, and then decided he was done pondering.

            “That explains the disappearance of the purple flowers.” exclaimed king Apil-Sin!

            Smuftar tilted his head.


              Tal turned on the invisible-izer, and smiled as he enjoyed the idea that his spaceship would never be noticed by any human or animal alike.

              He exited the ship, walked a few paces and then suddenly halted in his tracks.

              Directly in front of him was no other than a large sink hole.

              What the Kraken? he thought. There must have been some major Earth changes since his interstellar space traveling. Good thing he didn’t land a few feet to the north.

              Tal clicked a small button on his nifty zinger-space-belt, which enabled the detection of any Earth anomalies.

              The gauge was reading off the charts!


                The ointment the kind lady gave Luigi made him think of the fun adventure he had in Madrid with the good doctor. Ugly he was maybe, but not as daft as to blindly accept gifts of healing wrapped in a pretty bottle.
                Well, not without trying it first at least. Last time it’d cost him a cat. Well, the neighbour’s cat. And it was sick anyway before it’d dyed… Purple.

                “Would you mind passing me the poodle” he asked smiling a crooked smile to a morbidly obese lady sunbathing in a tight hot pink bikini near the marina.


                  “What the kraken?” exclaimed Sue Flay, pulling her matching hot pink towel around her. “Who made these sandwiches? Son of a Smuftar, there’s too much horseradish!”

                  F LoveF Love

                    “Are you flaming daft? I ain’t giving no bloody stranger my precious poodlekins!” The woman grabbed the poodle and clutched it protectively to her ample bosom.

                    Luigi sighed. He found other people somewhat baffling, and a tad unaccommodating, to say the least. He searched back in his memory, but could not for the life of him recall where the ointment originally came from

                    … a nice lady gave it to him? …

                    No, it was gone; there was just a gaping hole in his mind. He pondered the matter for a few moments, then decided he was done pondering and would be better served giving his attention to the light ship, which had also disappeared.

                    “How odd” he muttered.

                    “I beg your flaming pardon! I’m not the bloody odd one I’ll ‘ave you bloody know … ‘ere, I know what this is.” The woman’s face lit up and she leaned forward provocatively, “You’re making some of them bloody advances at me ain’t you?”


                      There didn’t seem to be enough hours in the non sequential moments to sort the appalling lack of continuity out. Elizabeth could sense the invisible threads of white ink all around her, but rather than conveniently accessing their continuity enhancing properties she felt trapped inside them, unable to move.


                        “Guess it was about bloody time I got back here” Franlise said, her feather duster firmly clutched in her left hand.
                        The matronly black woman started dusting vigourously, sending myriads of half-written papers flying in the air.
                        “My draaafts!” Elizabeth shriek was lost in the gusts of winds.

                        “Bugger, bugger, bugger” the impromptu cleaning lady started to enunciate in a most perfect Queen’s English. “Nothing like some good buggery bugger to start the day and clear the lungs. And many a little makes a damn buggery mickle, isn’t that right darling?”. She said, striking a pilates pose in between the cleaning.

                        Elizabeth stood aghast, not knowing what to say but a meek “Didn’t I fire you?” to which Franlise knew better than to answer with nought but a smile.
                        Drawing a sharp letter opener from behind her back, she nimbly leaned toward Elizabeth, with all her white teeth glowing in the dark apartment where even the aspidistras had long gone dried up and wrinkled, their pots now no more than mere ashtrays.

                        “Well, now, what shall we do about all that spider cobwebs you’ve got yourself wrapped in…”


                          And the dog took a mouthful of buns, reading the Bun Newspaper. A shiver ran down his back. The evil Loard Koala escaped from the infamous Alkasetzar prison.
                          He wiggled his tail to relax, though didn’t have the time. A strong grip around his torso. He couldn’t breath, almost had the impression he could die any moment, stuck between two masses of flesh. Then a scratch on his head.
                          It was his common lot. Couldn’t take his breakfast quietly with the giantess.
                          After a few seconds he felt the impulse to ran into the pool. He still couldn’t swallow his buns, and was waiting for just the right moment.


                            Todd the poodle was in fact a shapeshifter in hiding, monitoring the spread of the Tourette virus the Sh’elves had unleashed upon the marinade.

                            Sadly he’d noticed the Elves had dispatched a covert squad of Hot Cross Bums, an old alliance of homeless monks, probably to uncover the source of the disease. He’d had to be extremely cautious.
                            But then, the mass of flesh surrounding his collar started to squeeze horribly.


                              He bit his mistress who began swearing awfully.



                                F LoveF Love

                                  “Cobblers Awls Tommy Rollocks!” she cried with her mouth full of buns.


                                    The shapeshifter froze instantly. How did she know? He noticed a few freshly mashed buncrumbs landing on his head.


                                      Once upon a fucking time
                                      A writer tried to tow the line
                                      And then got struck
                                      Like Oh my fuck
                                      Ing god I’ve got Tourettes

                                      And once upon that fucking time
                                      No it bloody didn’t rhyme
                                      He tried to shout
                                      Could only prout
                                      And mutter bugger all the time


                                        At the same moment in a remote town in a far away galaxy, master yoda took his light saber out, preparing to fight Dookoo. He was trying to sort out all these probabilities where buns were blending with dogs in boobs. It almost got him killed.
                                        “Have you considered suing your brains for lack of support?” said Dookoo with an evil grin.


                                          Right ho, my loins are girded, and I am off into the fray of invisible white buns, announced Fray Mentos, adjusting his frayed white loin cloth. His motto was If it’s not bun, don’t do it.


                                            Meanwhile back at the ranch – and it was a true ranch with horses and cattle and mountains stretching as far as one could see – Neb was sighing in dismay. He had an odd scrunched look upon his face, and he was curled up in the fetus position.

                                            “How am I supposed to life like this!” Neb demanded.

                                            “All these bloody synchronicities, manifestations and freaking reality shifts are making me feel very uncomfortable.” Neb pouted. Neb tried to imagine his happy place, any happy place would do, but all he could muster was the thought of white buns and spider webs.

                                            “Is not this the point of The Shift?” asked a voice in Nebs head.

                                            “Why bloody not!”

                                            “You don’t know where I’ve just come from, and what I was doing, and what I’ve seen with my very eyes.” Neb moaned.

                                            “So your afraid yet once again, my friend. You fear a lot of things, and have many beliefs about your shelf, elf, I mean self.” said the voice.

                                            “My thoughts manifest in an instant, and usually not in a pleasant way. No not at all, and most uncomfortably obvious too.” said Neb.

                                            “That’s splendid!”

                                            “Sounds to me like your shifting right along, and from what you’ve said, you are allowing your reality to shift quite easily.”

                                            “With ease!?” shouted Neb.

                                            “Its a bloody mess, is what it is. I seem to attract just what I don’t want, and rarely what I do, and this is all to much for me to accept.”

                                            A pink poodle with twenty or so linked sausages in its mouth strolled up to Neb. The poodle grinned, and dropped the sausages in front of Neb, then strutted in a westward direction.

                                            Neb looked at the sausages, and cringed.


                                              Sadly for Neb Spark, winter was coming, and he would be dead by the end of the first book.
                                              But sad it was not truly, as being a ghost of the shift was something he wished to experience for himself. And as far as possessing was concerned, he had some score with his old tyrannical mother Ann-Yster to settle.

                                            Viewing 20 replies - 41 through 60 (of 77 total)
                                            • The topic ‘Tales of Tw’Elves’ is closed to new replies.